The Life of the Party
by PrincessCheese
Summary: AU after Season 1 Finale. 14th July 1789 Commoners overthrew the Monarchy. 14th July 2008 Queen B decides this Queen isn't going down without a fight. Chuck throws Serena a Birthday Party in the Hamptons and Blair turns up


**I own nothing sorry I wish I did I would sort out the mess that is gracing our screens of late.**

This is a story written last summer when I was hating Chuck, posted now whilst I am hating Chuck. If feedback allows I will write a pro-chuck follow up.

Inspired by Smokey Robinson's Tracks of my tears...

Enjoy

* * *

The summer was his last summer before graduation, his summer of reckless abandon, not that he had restrained himself any of the summers that had come before but because this summer with the end of carefree adolescent so painfully close he intended to rewrite the record books, redraw the lines and make sure that Chuck Bass was immortalised.

He and Nate had planned this summer ever since Carter Baizen had taught them how to roll joints on their first "lost weekend". They were going to rent a house in the Hamptons, and not just lose a weekend but lose a whole summer, wild parties, gambling, drinking, sailing, copious amounts of ladies, weed and unfettered excess; a final shebang of beach side glory before hitting the books to secure their Ivy League destinies which in turn unlocked access to their trust funds.

Chuck couldn't believe that he was finally living it, weeks of debauchery and it wasn't getting old anytime soon. He had made himself a living legend, the centre of every party worth attending, a feature in antidotes that his peers would be dining out on for the next 20 years, there was not a girl in the room that he couldn't have at the drop of a hat. He had made it, ultimate party boy of the Upper East Side. His eccentricity and infamy working hand in hand to belie the newness of his money to the ignorant and to make those who did know not care. Some people are born into their circumstances some create their own and like his father built his empire, Chuck built his dynasty.

As a conga line went past him yet again he picked up his scotch from the bar and surveyed the room, tonight was the highlight of the summer, Serena had asked him to organise her birthday party, Blair was usually charged with this oh so important task but since the Queen B was indisposed, as her new stepbrother and the second best host in the UES the honour had fallen to him and he had relished it. A celebration of all things fun, the debutante of the real Serena Van Der Woodsen, or rather a reprise because they all knew the real Serena it was only her who had lost herself for a while. Speaking of Serena he could see her doing shots with half of the Unity lacrosse team, quite a step away from the Brooklyn writer but as he looked past her flowing blonde hair he saw the most genuine smile he had seen from her all summer on her face.

* * *

As she walked through the door Blair was almost knocked off her feet by Nelly Yuki and the a very good looking guy that she knew had just graduated from Riverside and was headed to Harvard in the fall half kissing each other's faces off half running up the stairs, Nelly stopped to give her a shy and apologetic wave before giggling and following whatshisface up the stairs. She smiled at the lovers, she had always hoped Nelly would have a happy ending as long as it didn't intrude on her own and Harvard seemed perfect to her.

She looked around the room that she had stepped into; she could see the girls and boys of the Upper East Side, the so-called future of society sitting on $40000 couches drinking Gran Patrón Burdeos Añejo from the bottle or more disturbingly from each other's bodies. So this is what happens when a Bass-tard is asked to do a Queen B's work she wondered, not that the party was a complete washout, there seemed to be a pretty decent ratio of decorum to debauchery, considering Chuck had been in charge.

She spotted Serena in the corner of the room surrounded by gorgeous guys, as content as Serena was in her relationship with Dan this is how she thrived. She glowed and they worshiped her. Blair knew that Serena would find her way back to Dan, but hoped that she would learn that she didn't need to be perfect for someone to love her along the way.

She went towards the parlour, knowing she would find him there, desperately wanting to see him. Every romantic bone in her body was begging to see him broken defeated, unable to take comfort in any woman that wasn't her but the masochist in her desperate to see him in the arms of another, to feel the pain of knowing that she meant nothing to him.

Before she could spot him a she was being approached by one of Serena's lacrosse players, obviously thinking his chances of success were better with Queen B, Plan B. She didn't care that she was second best to him, some people described Carter Baizen as everything that is good about Nate mixed with the good points of Chuck Bass, and the guy in front of her was a human embodiment of the worst qualities of both her boyfriends, both sleazy and clueless.

But she was Blair Waldorf, at a party hosted by Chuck bass so she pretended that the vain, vapid, sexist lump in front of her was the only man in the room and soon even she was fooled. Eleanor Waldorf taught faking an interest when she taught the alphabet, so she flicked her hair at the right places, subtly touching his chest just enough, whilst licking her lips when only necessary. In moments, he was hooked and the world was fooled.

Chuck Bass hadn't hurt Blair Waldorf, no one could hurt a Queen certainly not the court Jester.

* * *

He spotted her almost as soon as she walked into the room; her presence in a room was almost tangible. The air became thicker; sounds became muffled because all you could hear was the sound of your own heart beating. The Blonde Van der Woodsen clone on his lap became unbearably heavy despite the apparent lack of food in her diet.

She walked into the party as if she owned the place, silent judging, plotting and evaluating the situation before making a move. He realised that this was his normal cue to come behind her with an offer of a room key or a ravishing, the air thickened still when he thought about how mess up things were.

He kissed the girl on his lap, her lips making his face wet with sloppy kisses as her hands went through his hair, the feel of acrylic nails against his scalp reminding him of a weekend in Amsterdam when pot and women were all he needed he had found a place where he could buy both. He only wished that women and pot were still a cure all for him, they had stopped working when he realised that not going to Europe was a mistake but even his summer long failsafe and namesake hadn't been able to dull the ache tonight.

She was talking to a jock from Unity, flirting shamelessly. He wanted to believe that she was faking it like he had seen her do so many times before but he couldn't be sure. He wasn't sure of anything anymore. He stared at her his eyes burning into the back of her head willing her to look at him. He needed to see her eyes; they were the window to her soul, the only part of her body that she couldn't control no matter how hard she tried.

When she finally looked at him, he raised his scotch glass to her, saluting her efforts. Her eyes gave her away like the always did, like his mouth always did him. The look of sadness annoying him more than anything. He decided in that moment that he hated Blair Waldorf, with her feeling and butterflies, he left her to save her and she comes back with those doe eyes all glistening with unshed tears and makes him feel bad for being unselfish. He downed the liquid amber in a single gulp. Before pushing the girl off his lap and walking over to her.

He gave the jock a look that told him to go away and unsurprisingly he did, "What are you doing here Blair?"

"It's my best friend's birthday party wouldn't miss it for the world despite the guest list" She had come to the Hamptons as soon as Serena had said that she was having a birthday party.

"Didn't seem much of a best friend this summer when she's been getting awful close to Nathanial...again" he sneered, using his oldest trick to try to get a rise out of her.

"What do I care what she does with Nate, in fact I would be happy for them" If Serena hadn't already told me that it was a fake relationship she added silently. She wanted this conversation over as soon as possible. Something about the way he was slurring his words and looking at her scared her "At least one thing you said that night was true I don't belong with Nathanial, never have never will"

She tried to walk away but he grabbed her arm, squeezing tight as he whispered into her ear "and like you said I don't belong with anyone"

She could almost hear the smirk on his face, "And I was right wasn't I?"

"Oh I don't know I guess I'm just more of a rental than a purchase I belong with anyone for one night" leaning in close enough that she could feel his breath on her ear he whispered "or seven".

"Goodbye Chuck" she pushed him away from her and walked out of the room.

* * *

Blair had made it to the kitchen before her resolve faltered; she leaned against the counter panting her heart beating a million miles a minute filled with pain and anger. She was thankful that the group of drunken teens that were in the kitchen were enjoying some of Chuck's herbal entertainment and therefore didn't notice her losing her cool. She leaned her head against the cabinet and closed her eyes taking long deep cleansing breaths, until she heard his voice.

"What are you all doing smoking that stuff in here," he yelled as he walked into the room and gave the group of teens a look that told them their presence was no longer required "Don't you know you are in the presence of royalty. The Queen is dead, long live Queen B."

She looked up at him wearily, she felt tired, tired of hurting. "It's an old joke Chuck, not a funny one either"

"So Blair, how was Tuscany," he asked, his eyes newly bright as he wiped white powder from his nose.

"Chuck what are you doing?" her question heavy with meaning, she had never seen Chuck like this he was slurring his words, rolling his head. She was best friends with Serena Van Der Woodsen, she knew what he was doing but she just never thought she would see him doing it.

With her reliance on white porcelain and white knights on white horses, she was surprised she didn't seek solace in white powder too but as she saw the menacing look on Chucks face she remembered why. Porcelain and Knights give you control they don't take it away.

"Nothing, just asking how your vacation went, trying to be friendly" He leaned over her, placing his hands on either side of her so she was trapped between him and the counter.

"We are not friends Chuck" she bit out turning her face away from him as his alcoholic breath breathed down on her "I don't know what we had after that night at Victoria, or what we had after your father's wedding but I know that even if we used it for evil before all this happened we were friends and I also know what hurts the most is that we can never have that back."

For a second genuine concern flashed through his eyes, a genuine fear that he might lose her struck his heart and he felt pain in a place he had long thought amputated. It angered him, more than her flirting with Lacrosse jerks or her superior attitude, the fact that she could hurt him made him angry. "Oh come on Blair. Someone is going to break your heart and you are going to turn to me because I am always there Blair whether you like it or not.

"No Chuck, things change. People change, over this year I have been let down by, or lost every person that I care about and you know what I survived, I wanted to run but I stayed. I don't need you Chuck, I don't need anyone. I'm Blair Waldorf and this is Game over" she spat before pushing him away from her with all the force she could muster.

"I told you once before the game's not over until I say it's over." He said chuckling quietly at her, at the idea of the game, their game ever being over, that she thought that ending it was within her power. She might have started their dalliance but no one took away Chuck's toys even the ones he didn't want to play with at the moment.

"You win Chuck, I'm not playing anymore," she confessed before walking back into the main party room without looking back.

All she wanted was to find Serena wish her a happy birthday and leave. Despite her diminutive stature, she has always felt tall around these people, she was Queen B, crowds parted, people looked past the throng to see her, a single look or gesture's meaning was conveyed across campus within minutes. But today 5 foot 9 in her stilettos she was struggling against the mass of sweaty bodies, all gyrating to a beat that was drowned out by the obstreperous beating of her own heart. She channelled her anger into shoving a path through to her best friend.

Once again she heard him before she saw him, "You know what you are Blair" he bellowed silencing the crowd and her heart.

"No but I am sure you will tell me" She smiled as she turned around and shot him a challenging look, this was her arena as much as it was his, they both thrived with an audience, enough eyes on them for them to banish the demons that haunted them when they were alone.

"You are a sl..." he slurred his voice as cold and mean as it had been that night in the bar when she had let him destroy her.

She walked up to him rising up in her shoes until she was almost the same height as him, she stopped his words with a single look, filled his throat with sand because he had expected her to crumble he expected this to be the final public nail in the coffin. The voice of revolution bringing down the monarchy isn't that what Bastille Day was all about. But somewhere along the line, in between the butterflies and break ups he forgot that Blair was Queen B for a reason "That is enough Bass," she commanded silencing the whispers of the court before dropping her voice her to whisper the words that were for his benefit only "I might have let you talk to me like that once but like I said things change"

She stared him down, her eyes taking over the next round of battle a battle that even if he were not both Drunk and high Chuck could never have won. The Native Americans believed that a photograph stole your soul; Chuck Bass liked to pretend he had no soul and would never allow anyone to see anything within his eyes that made his words a lie. He looked away almost as soon as she lay down the gauntlet. His weakness made the victory taste bitter in her mouth and she turned away from the broken little boy who was no longer her problem.


End file.
